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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27972644">ghosts of the old days</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreezingKaiju/pseuds/FreezingKaiju'>FreezingKaiju</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Neon Genesis Evangelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Birthday, Car Accidents, F/F, Misato Is A Sadsack</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:49:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>696</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27972644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreezingKaiju/pseuds/FreezingKaiju</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Misato gets hit by a car. Sort of. Happy birthday!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akagi Ritsuko/Katsuragi Misato</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>ghosts of the old days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> At least the kids fucked off. </em>
</p><p>Misato Katsuragi couldn’t take much other joy today. December Fourth, 2020, her don’t-fucking-ask-th birthday. She had the good booze, yeah, she had movies, yeah, but...Kaji wasn’t returning her calls, and she didn’t bother with Ritsuko.</p><p>Maybe she needed new friends.</p><p>Hell, she needed <em> friends in the first place </em>.</p><p>Everyone was always colleagues, drinking buddies, or responsibilities. Since ...well, since ever. </p><p>Life sucked.</p><p>What can ya do?</p><p>The answer Misato arrived to, as she touched up her makeup with an apathetic flourish, zipped up her jacket, and put on a pair of decent-but-not-heeled shoes, was go to the bar and get fucking wasted. </p><p>Hell, she’ll walk this time. Not driving back, and it’s close enough. </p><p>Maybe she’d freeze.</p><p>Three seconds of thoughts of hypothermia, permafrost and the tundra later, Misato slipped on a second jacket. Just to be safe. </p><p>The booze’d keep her warm anyway.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em> At least it’s only 5:43. </em>
</p><p>Dr. Ritsuko Akagi was about to start chewing on her fucking steering wheel. </p><p>This stupid town. This stupid backwater miserable town--</p><p>
  <em> Had been the perfect place to hide NERV activity, was the perfect place to hide the Ikari kids from people who still owed him favors, had great bars </em>
</p><p>--was a <em> nightmare </em> to visit, a nightmare to drive through, and a nightmare to find Misato’s house in.</p><p>Of course, there were other reasons Ritsuko never visited. </p><p>Spite. Old wounds. Repressed homosexuality. The general package. </p><p>Speaking of package, what she had in the trunk was...well. One can’t really sift through the better part of a decade’s feelings about a missed connection and mutual shittyness on a birthday. So she had the next best thing. A shoddily made cake (never much of a cook), a pair of tacky earrings, a car magazine subscription. She couldn’t exactly have <em> asked </em>, so...improvisation. Easier this way than in the medical world. </p><p> </p><p>It was still kinda chilly.</p><p>Why did she wear the cocktail dress?</p><p>It’s a fun dress, sure, but the practicality...</p><p>Ugh. Practicality. Between her old job and babysitting a pair of witness protection tweens, practicality was starting to leech into Misato’s mind and shut off all her Cool Bitch brain centers. </p><p>She even owned cargo shorts now. Cargo shorts!</p><p>The car screeching down the road now better put her out of her misery.</p><p>...CAR?</p><p> </p><p>Ritsuko Akagi slammed on the brakes.</p><p>On one level, hah, she found her. How serendipitous.</p><p>On another level, Ritsuko hoped to whatever was out there that she hadn’t just killed Misato on her birthday.</p><p><em> There wasn’t a thump, </em> she rationalized as she unbuckled her seatbelt. <em> There’s no blood, </em>she insisted as she opened her door. </p><p>
  <em> I can salvage this. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It was karmic.</p><p>It was what she deserved, really.</p><p>It was a humiliating pratfall to start a definitely soulcrushing night.</p><p>It was... it... it, it was...</p><p>“...Rit-chan?”</p><p>The woman who nearly isekai’d her went through a facial roadtrip that began with horror, sped past confusion and remorse, and parked itself in the garage of comedy. She tipped over on her heels, and fell on her ass laughing.</p><p>“Why the hell are you laughing?! You just killed me! Almost! Which counts!”</p><p>Ritsuko brushed her blond hair out of her face and slapped a hand on Misato’s shoulder, stronger than usual (can it be usual, if they haven’t seen each other in fucking months?). “Happy birthday, you disaster.”</p><p>Misato’s grimace immediately broke. A small, genuine smile replaced it, eyes ever so slightly wide. “...You remembered?”</p><p>Ritsuko adjusted her glasses. “You expected me to forget, didn’t you. I was trying to surprise you.”</p><p>“You hit me with your car!”</p><p>“A different surprise.”</p><p>Misato sighed, the smile still on her lips. She had yet to be crushingly let down, this must be a record. “Bring booze?”<br/>“What? No, you’ve always got the good stuff anyway,” Ritsuko deflected. “I brought cake.”</p><p>On some level, this felt like complete bullshit. Tomorrow, Ritsuko was going to ghost her like always. Tomorrow, Misato’d wake up with an empty bed, a hangover, and responsibilities looming over her neck. </p><p>But tonight...tonight she could eat cake and go drinking with Ritsuko Akagi like they were back in college again.</p>
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